


Set Me Aflame

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abusive Relationships, Break Up, Break Up Talk, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, It Gets Worse, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, This Shit Gets Sad As Fuck, Trans Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Winged Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, this is gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: After Virgil suddenly breaks up with his boyfriends, the three are left to worry about why, especially since he wasn't that convincing on his reason why.





	1. Shatter Me

The youngest of the four had been acting so rather strange with the group. It was so unlike him to be as distant as he was. Usually, he only acted like that when he hadn’t taken his anxiety medication, but Patton had been one hundred percent sure he was taking it. He had made sure the other was. 

 

“Virgil,” Patton asks softly, running his fingers through the black feathers softly, “Are you okay? You’ve been kind of distant lately.” 

 

Logan nods from his spot on the couch, watching the youngest bristle at the question. He freezes. “Actually… I think we should break up,” he supplies. 

 

Patton’s entire body freezes, even Roman stopping from where he was slitting the disc into the movie player. Their eyes are all on him, brows furrowed and eyes a little wide. Virgil stands from his spot, shaking slightly. Despite the fact that he had said it so solidly and that he was now shaking as if even he hadn’t even wanted to do it himself. 

 

“A-Are we doing something wrong,” Patton asks, fear in his voice. “I know with the new jobs and stuff, we haven’t exactly had our schedules sync up, but-” 

 

Virgil flicks his hand to the other, successfully getting him to stop. He looks as if he were going to break down at any moment. “No, no, it’s not any of you three. Things are just…” He mulls over his words, attempting to find the correct phrase, the three think, but they aren’t sure. He looks so unwilling to even consider it. “I’m moving out. A coworker and I already have something set up. I can’t stay here.” 

 

“What’s wrong,” Logan asks softly. His own voice cracks, something that makes everyone pause. He hated admitting his feelings, telling people what was going on. He bottled just as bad as Virgil had, if not worse. “What did we do? You can’t even say it’s something we're doing, because otherwise, you wouldn’t be leaving us. You’re moving out, too.” 

 

“Well, I can’t exactly room with my exes, Logan. Would you? We’re not like a normal couple where it’s just one partner. We’re four different people. So now I won’t have just one ex, but three.” 

 

Roman was the next to ask a question. “Then what, Virgil? So you just get to get out of this relationship free without any baggage, leave it on us? W-we don’t even get an explanation, just a goodbye?” 

 

“Alright, then. I don’t love any of you anymore. And I haven’t for a while. I’m starting a relationship with my coworker and I’ve already got my bags packed.” Tears fall from all of them. Virgil still doesn't seem to be that convincing, though. He seems more like he’s in pain than anything. “I don’t think I ever loved any of you, to begin with. Roman, your singing is annoying. Patton, you’re too touchy-feely. And Logan, your constant spews about science are annoying. I only went along with it because I was anxious about it.” He sharply turns away from the three, stomping to his room. He grips his bags and leaves the home, no other explanation getting left for them to sort through. For some reason, none of them even attempt to stop him. 


	2. Sickly Sweet

It was incredibly rough on the three boys left behind, but more so than the others was Roman. Roman saw him every single day he went to work. Virgil had always worked in the background of every stage production at the theater. He did the lights and sound as well as the costumes, though that was much more just in his spare time. Roman’s mind blurs when he sees Virgil talking to another, one of the others in sound production. 

 

Virgil doesn’t look that comfortable, honestly, and his eyes flicker to Roman’s, only to flicker back to the other stagehand, one that the older had only ever heard being referred to as  _ De. _ However, their lips tangle together, “De’s” eyes open and flickering to Roman’s, as if to show off the fact that they were a couple. When he pulls away, a line of spit connects from their lips only for Virgil to wipe it away. The albino angel looks more guilty than anything. He pulls away from the other with a frown, but more words are slipped between the two before “De” slips away, his hand ghosting Virgil’s jaw and a smirk on his lips. 

 

Roman tosses his bag down the instant he opens the door to the home, finding both Patton and Logan at the table. The oldest nurses a mug of coffee while Patton slips a plate on the table. “What’s wrong, kiddo,” Patton asks within an instant. 

 

“They’re doing it again,” he groans, shutting the door behind himself. He hangs up his keys and jacket. “It’s like they’re trying to show off that he’s in a new relationship!” The theater performer stomps over to the table, flopping down in his seat across from Logan. He glares at the chair that used to be Virgil’s, his arms crossed and lips jutted out in an angry pout. In his fit of anger, he kicks the chair over. 

 

“Does he at least look happy now,” Patton asks softly, though it sounds pained. 

 

Roman pauses to consider his words.  _ Was _ Virgil happy? He hadn’t seemed too happy about the sudden PDA De was using. Virgil was never actually big on PDA. The only time they had ever done anything in public aside from talk or passively hug was the one time they had snuck off into the broom closet for a quick handjob and fingering, but that had been a one time occurrence that had happened only a month ago on their last days of working at the shitty theater two states over. 

 

“I guess he is,” Roman admits softly, brows furrowed. 

 

Logan sighs softly. “I know it has only been a few nights, but… We need to respect Virgil’s rights to love someone else. As long as he is happy, then… We shouldn’t say anything about it.” His brows furrow, a minuscule hint at the fact that he wasn’t actually happy with that decision, despite it being his own idea. He purses his lips and sets down his cup, hands folding. “We have to let him go at some point.” 

 

Roman glares at where the chair sits on the floor now. His anger was clear as he flipped his own lid, throwing his hands in the air. “He didn’t even love us! Who  _ does that? _ Why would you date someone if you don’t like them?” 

 

Patton already feels the fire of a fight between the two in front of him stirring. It was going to be a long night. 

 

-

 

Deceit’s hand presses to Virgil’s shoulder as he sits on the desk that Virgil had been using to write on. He smirks at the younger. “Hey, V,” he speaks, cool as can be. The angel straightens a tad more at the wraith’s presence. He was tense, to say the least. “We have to sell this couple thing, meaning that you have to smile and pretend you actually do love it.” 

 

“Why?” His words are accompanied with a lovesick look, one that’s sickly sweet. His eyes flicker to where Roman is staring, looking neutral. Virgil knows he as pissed off as a human can possibly be. “Oh,” he whispers, disheartened. 

 

Deceit’s hand moves to the younger’s side, a smirk playing at his lips. “You know he’s human. And humans are far from hard to kill.” A feather spins from between his fingers, though where it had come from was unknown to the younger. It hadn’t been plucked, that was for sure. “While you angels pretend not to be, if someone has you under command, I  _ can _ force you to do whatever I need, as well as, oh, I don’t know, take away your  _ lungs, _ perse.” 

 

With a slight flick of his finger, Virgil feels the sudden  _ emptiness _ in his chest. Angels typically didn’t need oxygen unless they had their own vessel. Unfortunately, Virgil did, which meant that he would need it. He attempts to keep up the lovesick look, but he was losing air and would be dead within ten minutes (he could hold his breath for eight minutes, which was absolutely the worst thing he could ever know), which would be just as painful for him as it would a human. His hand comes up to his throat as he attempts to breathe, but a disgusting cold fills him. Tears greet his eyes. It feels disgusting, the dark magic running through him. 

 

“Good,” Deceit chirps, a hand on his jaw as he pulls the younger forward. Their lips press together, the older literally breathing life into him, his lungs returned to him. He pulls away with a smirk, just as full of poison as it always was. Virgil could feel Roman staring daggers in them both, which meant Deceit had done something, though the younger had no idea  _ what. _ He wipes his mouth instantly. “Keep it up, my little angel,” he coos before slipping away, leaving the younger alone to tend to himself. He wipes away his tears just after Roman storms away. He even ends up vomiting two minutes later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deceit is one of my favorite characters, I'm just mean


	3. No Noise Allowed

Patton feels sick the instant he sees Virgil standing there, standing beside De with a lovesick look, nothing more than a puppy following. He looks a little uncomfortable, honestly, but Patton doesn’t comment. He was rather drained after Roman and Logan’s fight this morning. He had even ended up joining them in it. The home was messy, uncomfortably so. 

 

Virgil had always been the peacemaker. He chose the neutral route unless he really wanted to stand on opinions, making sure they knew his stand, which was always something he made painfully obvious whenever he wanted to. He also cleaned a lot more than the others thought he would, especially with the depression that had always plagued him. Everything needed to be in specific places or else he would go into a spiral, claiming it lost and going through the entire house until he found it. His anxiety always spurred him on like that. 

 

Now, he looks sickly pale, as if he hadn’t been eating, which was something Patton always had to make sure Virgil did. He hopes De is doing that. Virgil was the only one occupying his vessel. He  _ needed _ to keep himself healthy. Or at least somewhat healthy. 

 

Patton almost does vomit at seeing the way Virgil flinches as De raises his hand as if he were expecting a slap. However, the older rubs the back of his neck and grabs Virgil’s hand. His sleeves slip up to reveal dark bruises, ones that look new, or at least incredibly painful. He averts his gaze as the two press together in a soft kiss before parting, Virgil slipping forward to press his books to the counter. 

 

Patton didn’t always work in the library. He actually worked at the elementary school, teaching a class of kindergarteners. He volunteered at the library every once in a while, usually on weekends or when he had extra free time after school. However, after this fight, he had come in for the purpose of avoiding his boyfriends. Their fight had been one of screams and yells that haunted his head. They weren’t really cruel, no, just loud and present. A lot of them were even petty from all three parties. It was horrid, honestly. 

 

Virgil presents his card to the other, a frown on his features. The older scans it. “Hey, Virgil,” he speaks softly, “How’ve you been?” 

 

“Fine, you?” 

 

Patton shrugs softly. “Pretty good, V.” He scans in a book, smiling as politely as he can, but his eyes keep adverting to the sleeves that cover his arms and wrists. He’s wearing a black hoodie, one that doesn’t have an open back for his wings, meaning they were cramped and painfully there, burning with time. “You look a little bruised up,” he comments about the dark bruise on Virgil’s hand, one on the top of his left. He pulls into himself a tiny bit before straightening up. 

 

“Which bruise are you talking about,” he asks slyly. “The one on my hand is from hitting it on the doorknob. The others are because De is pretty kinky.” He looks uncomfortable with his own statement, even looking disgusted with it. He cringes the tiniest bit. 

 

“Nice,” Patton replies, finally scanning in the last book. “These are due back in three weeks.” He pushes the books forward with a polite smile, watching the other slipping them into his bag. Virgil nods, moving forward to the door. De slips up beside him. His hand creeps up his back. Patton was far from missing the way he straightened up with a flinch at his hand ghosting over the angel’s wings. 

 

-

 

“Patton, you see, he’s actually an easy target. Not only is he sensitive, he’s also incredibly  _ dumb,” _ Deceit accuses. Virgil cringes internally, turned to fully face the other, withholding a love-filled look. He actually wants to vomit. “You know how to get to him, don’t you?” 

 

“I… I do, I think,” he fesses up. 

 

“I know how to somewhat get to him.” The older’s hand raises, watching his wind up toy of a boyfriend flinch. He snorts, moving to touch the back of his neck. He swoops his hand down, snatching up the other’s wrist. “Don’t play nice.” He leans in to press a quick kiss to the other. 

 

When the two regrouped five minutes later, the older makes sure to grab onto the wings, applying rough pressure to them. “Good boy,” he coos as tears collect in the younger’s eyes. He maintains the look of love, though, knowing that otherwise, things would end up a little worse than they already were. 


	4. Caffeine

_ Roman’s fingers thread through Virgil’s hair, his lips messily pressing to the other’s. He presses his fingers into the other, listening to his soft moans.  _

 

_ “Roman,” he whimpers out, grinding against the older’s fingers.  _

 

Roman leans up with a frown, immediately being greeted with Logan’s face. He frowns, realizing the person who had said his name was actually the one on hand. “Hey, Lo,” he mumbles, looking at where Patton was laying beside him. Logan sits in the edge of the bed, sitting there with his legs elegantly crossed. Roman wouldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to lean over and kiss him. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the older’s cheek before leaning over to do so with Patton as well. 

 

“I wanted to apologize,” Logan supplies, his cheeks ghosting a light pink. He crosses his hands in his lap, looking away. “I understand that people deal with breakups differently. I should not have started the fight last night. And I know that this morning, I should not have fueled onto it, either.” 

 

“We were both in the wrong for even fighting, Logan. Let’s just forgive and forget about last night, alright?” He smiles at the other, offering a hand out to shake. 

 

Logan hesitantly shakes his head, the two sealing up the silent promise to not do that again with a kiss. Patton eventually joining into their morning makeout session. 

 

-

 

Logan sat with Remy, watching the two sitting in the middle of Remy’s cafe. The younger sipped from his cup, listening to the other rant about what Virgil had said, what he’d  _ done _ . While one ran a cafe, the other ran the entire local high school's science department, which meant he was also grading papers at the same time. 

 

“So, what, you just let all this stuff go on? Girl, that’s all a lie. He was head over heels for you three.” Remy rolls his eyes, setting down his cup. “He even cried over you three.” That was long before Virgil had graduated and the four had moved out of state. They had all returned now, thankfully, but Remy knew something was up now. 

 

“Truly? He doesn’t seem to be anymore.” 

 

“Just a week after you four got back, he babbled about your eyes, Patton’s hair, and Roman’s voice. He’s far from disliking you three.” He folds his hands in front of him, his lips curling into a frown. 

 

As if they had jinxed it, in came Virgil, standing with a tall figure. His hair is dyed yellow, patches of skin darker than others, clearly vitiligo. It’s a contrast to Virgil’s albino coloring, especially as his hair is beginning to fade so abruptly. Virgil had never let it grow more than half an inch before dying it, and his hair grew pretty fast. Now, though, it was at least an inch of pure white and faded colors. The taller looked angry while Virgil looked straight up uncomfortable. 

 

“No, De, we can’t do that,” he groans, “I don’t want to go to the other apartments. Annie lives there and you know how much she despises me.” 

 

“I’m going to rip out your lungs,” the taller groans in annoyance, glaring at the other. “Well, where  _ do _ you want to live, then?” 

 

“Not with fucking you, that’s for damn sure. I want my boyfriends back.” 

 

The older shakes his head, smirking now. “Virgil, you already know you ended it with them, and pretty rough, too.” 

 

“Not my fault you have me under a binding contract.” 

 

“Ah, but it  _ is, _ Virgil. You’re the one shedding feathers and giving me them to use.” 

 

“And you’re the one ripping out handfuls of them when I sleep, too,” the other complains, falling silent and turning to a sickly sweet smile the instant Picani appears from the back of the shop. “Morning, Emile. How’s business?” 

 

Logan’s eyes widen as he motions to Remy, then back to the two. Thankfully, they’re both hidden from sight by a wall separating the booths. “Go to the back of the shop and give me a minute,” Remy supplies as he stands, not giving the other much room to argue. 

 

-

 

“He  _ what,” _ Patton wails as he hears the story. “That must hurt so much!” 

 

Remy nods, his own mocha wings behind him, folded elegantly. “It is so painful. That’s literally abuse.” his eyes widen, his calming exterior gone. “My brother is being  _ abused. _ He’s literally being abused. What’d we do? Angels are literally seen as dirt in a law system.” 

 

Roman frowns. “He… he has Virgil under a spell of some sort? Doesn’t that mean that there isn’t actually much we  _ can _ do?” 


End file.
